Jennifer
I stared at the screen and blinked.
“Serial baby killer. You’re so done.”
The message glowed like an accusation dipped in acid. Serial baby killer. Has Eloise finally snapped? What kind of drug, what kind of breakdown, would make her accuse me of something that deranged?
My fingers hovered over the keys. I typed:
“Eloise ? Are you okay? What is this about?”
Because I knew better than to escalate. If she’d flipped, I had to seem innocent. Concerned, even fragile.
My throat tightened, the quiet hum of the AC suddenly roaring in my ears. I set the phone down, walked over to the mirror on my vanity. My reflection looked back at me, controlled, and cool. Steel-blue eyes, high cheekbones, skin made flawless by contour and confidence.
I exhaled. Picked up the phone again and typ
